


An Alternate Path (redux)

by UmbralStars



Series: Americanism [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, American Civil War, Family Drama, Historical References, Other, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 11:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UmbralStars/pseuds/UmbralStars
Summary: A broken promise leads America despretly trying to save his family and nation. All the while, Confederacy wishes to leave behind the country he helped create.As a family is thrown into the depths of chaos, a nation will be ripped apart as a slightly different set events changes its fate.





	1. Prolouge: Bygone Days

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [An Alternate Path](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10497324) by [UmbralStars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UmbralStars/pseuds/UmbralStars). 



Alfred smiled into the early morning light, the sounds of the waves and the seagulls mixed with the waking port. His right arm was raised to shade his eyes just enough to watch as the last of the yellow and black ships fade into the distance. When the last ship had faded a warm sigh of relief filled the cold Virginia air. He was free. Completely and utterly free. Free to wear the name America without another dictating how it should be worn. His gun finally dropped with a satisfactory clunk. Everything felt freer in this moment. The sand on the beach, the waves softly rolling against it, even the cold winter wind that had always felt so heavy was light enough that it didn’t nip, just ruffled his hair in a lazy sort of way.   
  
“North?”   
  
Alfred turned with a grin away from the departing ships. Ethan stood on a sandbar just a few yards away with a frown placed firmly on his lips. Ethan was just few inches shorter than Alfred was, he had chalked it up to Alfred’s unexplained growth spurt a few years back. He was quite darker than Alfred's own skin tone with dark curly hair to match.  With it pulled back in a way he hadn’t since before the war which downplayed the curls but definitely up-played the high classiness. That and his clothing which was grossly not his backwoods militia uniform; however, the scars of a guerrilla were still there in the bandages that covered his right cheek and hands. Alfred’s slight grin turned into a good natured smirk, “Hey, I was just about to go looking for my brother. He’s a bit shorter than me, probably has a gun at his side, and most likely is wearing a dirty uniform with crooked glasses. Have you seen him around recently?”   
  
Ethan responded with a roll of his eyes before he walked to meet Alfred on the sand. “If you’ve forgotten,  _ North, _ the war ended two weeks ago. I hardly need to wear a uniform or constantly have a gun at my side anymore.  _ Especially _ not near an urban coastal port in Virginia,” Ethan’s subtle drawl made Alfred soften into a smile despite the obvious slights.   
  
“Well don’t mind the uniform Eth. I just wanted to to keep sending the message that we beat those sorry redcoats until all of them were back across Matthew’s borders, or on a boat over the Atlantic. I just wish you and the States shared the same mindset.”   
  
Ethan said nothing and just stared out at the bright ocean ahead of them. His eyes narrowed at the disappearing ships. His frown had deepened and stormy look slowly passed over his features. Alfred finally dropped the smile and looked at his little brother with a frown of his own, “Something the matter Ethan?”   
  
Ethan bit his lip before speaking again, “What if this was a mistake?” Alfred aghast, let his hands fly into the air with indignation, “Mistake?! How could this be a mistake?”   
  
Ethan turned away from the ocean with a stormy look on his face. It was a look that reminded Alfred too much of England’s whilst he got wrapped up in another war. He repeated, “What if this was a mistake?” Ethan ran his fingers through his hair stressfully, “What if this falls apart? We’re isolated overseas with enemies all around us, experimenting with a brand new government, not to mention there are fifteen of our kind all sharing one nation, other countries have torn themselves apart for less!”   
  
Alfred froze. He had to admit they were very real concerns, ones that he himself had had fleeting thoughts about, but while they were at war those thoughts were distant concerns. However, now they were done with the war, and any concerns were pressing at the forefront of his mind. Frankly, he hadn’t thought deeply on them until now.  “W-Well...” he started rather dumbly, “Well.. Hey, it wasn’t a mistake and we won’t fall apart!”   
  
Ethan looked down at the waves, his glasses sliding slightly down his nose, “How do you know that Alfred?” His voice was quiet now, almost a whisper. 

 

It made Alfred strain to hear it. To that question’s end; unfortunately, he had no answer. Alfred couldn’t know, he could never know what was going to happen. If this whole thing was going to fall apart, but.....he grabbed Ethan’s bandaged hands with his own making the latter snap back towards him. 

  
“I can’t know,” Alfred admitted, “ _ We _ can’t know, We can’t ever know until it’s happening around us. Sure we see the signs, but we still can’t know for sure.” Ethan’s stormy face didn’t drop but Alfred continued, “However I won’t let that happen, I won’t let us tear each other apart.”   
  
Ethan stayed silent and Alfred almost kept going before he spoke again, “You promise that? That we’ll never end up like that?”   
  
Alfred nodded with conviction, “I promise. As long as we protect each other, nothing will ever come between us!”   
  
For the first time that day Ethan smiled....   
  
  
  
  
Alfred was shaking. He was shaking and everything seemed to be falling apart. The whole Congress building was engulfed in panicked whispering as the nation they hadn’t seen in weeks suddenly burst in flanked by South Carolina and Alabama. Ethan was standing in front of him with his jaw set and a rebellious fire blazing in his eyes. That fire wasn’t like anything Alfred had seen from the younger nation before. At least not in a good number of years. The last time they were even close to that intense was when they– Alfred’s eyes widened in his own fierce panic, “Ethan, what are you-“   
  
“I have come here only to declared my official leave from being a representative of the United States of America.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I'm back! To all those who have waited patiently since my hiatus started I sincerely apologise for the delay. This is the redux version of An Alternate Path, one that will follow a different story than the original (at least it partly will). I have a clear cut plan for this version and will be able to see it to the end. To those who have come back I once again apologise and thank you for bearing with me, to those who've just found this story I hope you enjoy.


	2. Chancellorsville

**May 2, 1863**

**SpotsylvaniaCounty,Chancellorsville, VA**

**5:00 AM**

**Confederate Front**  

Recently it seemed, General Jackson had not been in a defensive mood. That much Ethan had learned yesterday when they launched the initial attack against the Army of the Potomac. If their retreating tails had said anything, it was that whatever commander that had replaced the last hadn't been prepared for any attack of the kind, or maybe Burnside hadn't been replaced at all and they simply ran out of Generals. At the very least, another victory had been secured however small it may have been. To top it off, they had been placed into a rather advantageous position. Ethan let out a small chuckle as he entered General Lee's tent. "Something humorous my boy?"

The General spoke from his position at his desk. General Jackson was at his side somehow looking both confident and graven at the same time. Collecting himself, Ethan immediately squared his shoulders and clasped his hands around his back. He shook his head, "No sir. Just thinking about the difficulty the Union has been having as of late."

Jackson chuckled good-naturedly, "Hasn't that been the truth. In fact we might cause them more trouble soon because we may have just found a way to push on to D.C, should it all go according to plan."

"What do you mean sir?" Ethan's interest had been piqued by Jackson's assertment. The General had spoken with confidence, not unlike he normally did, but to hear it in conjunction with moving to capture D.C was interesting to say the least.

"What Jackson means, Confederacy," Lee made a move to stand from his desk, "is that we are planning to move upon the Union flank. Stuart's scouts have relayed to me the Potomac's flank is vulnerable to attack. So we are hoping an attack upon it would send at least part of them into a retreat." 

Eyebrowsraised Ethan listened. It wasn't a bad idea, not by a long shot, but, "But, if you do not mind me asking sir, how are we to accomplish this?" Jackson was quick to respond, "We are going to be splitting the army in two. I will be taking 28,000 men to attack the right flank by nightfall."

" _28,000_?!" Ethan exclaimed utterly aghast, "But General Lee, sir that would only leave you with around 13,000 facing God knows how many in the Potomac's main force!" The resounding silence made Ethan bite on the lower corner of his lip, "I apologise for my outburst."

Lee shook his head softly, "No, I understand your concern Confederacy. After all considering we have seen US scouting balloons flying about they may see us coming well before the attack could land. However risky it may be it is our best shot at causing a large scale retreat."

Ethan didn't like this, but Lee had a point. He, at the very least, had to trust his Generals. After two years of excellent service, after sticking with him when it seemed grim, even after disasters like at Sharpsburg, they deserved as much. Ethan gave one short nod in capitulation, "All I request is that I follow General Jackson in his attack of the right flank," he turned towards the General in question, "If that is permissible to you?" 

Jacksonnodded slowly, "It's always nice to have your aim. I will get my troops ready for the march sir." With that he strode out of the tent and Ethan turned towards Lee, fixing his glasses and giving a salute, "I will hope to see again after the campaign." 

Lee inclined his head towards Ethan with a warm look on his face, "Stay safe Mr. Jackson." With that, Ethan turned and left. 

Leaving behind only 13,000 men against however many the Potomac had. _Tch_ , Ethan scoffed. If he didn't know these men and how capable they were, he would think them mad. Then again that was coming from a nation who frequently employed guerrilla tactics in his youth. Maybe he was a tad bit hypocritical there. Ethan pulled out his pocket watch and flipped open the face: 5:30. Ethan put it away with a sigh. It would still be many hours before they could mobilize. It was more than likely that the orders were already buzzing around camp so it left Ethan little much to do than get ready for the upcoming march. An arm that slung around his shoulders interrupted his brooding, “Hey Dixie, what’s with the face?” 

South Carolina smirked at Ethan, the state’s green eyes shining kindly beneath a mop of auburn hair and a grey infantry cap. At the sight of the elder state the nation couldn’t help but feel his scowl soften, “Nothin’. It’s nothin’. General Lee and General Jackson just made a plan to attack Union’s right flank, and I’ve been worried if that was a good idea.” Charles raised an eyebrow, “You’dn’t’ve been worried over nothin’? Now I heard of the attack, but I wouldn’t’ve though they’d split us up that badly.” Ethan made a face and Charles stopped walking to give him a look, “How badly did they split us?”

“28,000 for the flank and 13,000 to stay behind.”

Charles shook his head in dismay, “God they better not act like they did at Sharpsburg...”

()

**May 2, 1863**

**Spotslvania County, Chancellorsville, VA**

**7:38 AM**

**Confederate Front**

Ethan took great care in brushing his horse, Sprize. She’d been with him forever, when he was a colony, through the Revolution, and through every war he’d fought. Being a nation had its perks and having your animals live longer was one of them; however, he knew she was getting old. Unlike him she couldn’t live forever. Running the brush through her brown mane one final time Ethan smiled softly, “Can you go through one more campaign with me old girl?” Sprize gave him a look making Ethan chuckle and pat her neck, “I already know the answer."

Ethan stood only to get a face full of mane during the action, “Alright, Alright you ain’t old!” 

Sprize had a smug look that had Ethan rolling his eyes as he stuffed her brush into his saddle bag. Charles had leaned back against a nearby tree lazily shuffling a deck of poker cards. The rhythmic sound had mixed in with his brushing, but now Charles had gone silent. Ethan looked Charles’ way as soon as the shuffling had stopped. The state looked down towards his feet, his eyes distant and almost unseeing. Ethan’s jovial mood had dissipated into confusion. He gave Sprize one more pat on the neck before stalking closer to Charles as the state roughly shoved the cards into his pocket. “Charlie...” Charles looked up at the old nickname with only a hint of the smile he normally wore, “I guess it’s my turn t’ ask what’s with ya.”

The nation leaned against the tree beside the state as Charles plucked a leaf and preceded to rip it apart, “Mmmrrr...” 

Ethan prodded Charles in the side, “Aww come on Cakalacky! Somethin’s botherin’ ya. Won’t ya tell me what’s goin’ on?” 

Charles breathed softly through his nose, letting the leaf pieces fall to the ground, “Ethan…jus’ be careful. We don’t have any liberty of makin’ mistakes. If y’all are fixin’ t’ try and get D.C I just want ya t’ be careful,” the state threw his hands into the air, “T’ be honest they don’t have my confidence afte’ the mess they made at Sharpsburg...” 

Ethan stayed silent as he let Charles vent his frustrations, and halfway agreed with most of it. At this point, it made sense to be wary. Sharpsburg was still hanging over all of them, the single day had been a massacre and the tactical loss was still felt throughout the upper ranks of the army. They could not have another loss like that and Ethan knew it. Charles knew it. General Lee and General Jackson knew it. This could be their only chance to turn the tides in their favor. “Confederacy, South Carolina, sir!” A private came up to the personifications with a salute.

Ethan inclined his head towards the man, “At ease Private.”

The soldier nodded and lowered his arm still standing at attention, “General Jackson is ready to begin the march and he requests your presence at the front.”

Ethan nodded taking in this information, “Thank you for relaying this information you may go back to your station Private.” 

As the man left, Ethan turned towards Sprize and shook her saddle before tightening it a smidge. He lifted himself up onto the horse and slung his leg over with practiced ease. Grabbing the reins, he almost rode off when Charles grabbed the saddle horn. Ethan made a face and then dropped it when the older man looked at him with the utmost seriousness. He spoke softly enough that Ethan strained to hear his voice, “Y’ain’t allowed t’ get hurt. We can’ afford you gettin’ captured now.”

Ethan wanted to respond, to reassure that he wasn’t gonna let that happen, but Charles pulled off, with his smile slipped back into place, and softly hit Sprize’s backside spurring her to move. With Charles’ warning racking his brain Ethan moved onto the front.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering Sharpsburg refers to the battle of Antietam. During the time period, Confederate and Union forces often had different names for the battles they fought, and as a result battles still have naming differences to this day depending on where you are and who you ask.


	3. In His Corner

**May 2, 1863** ****  
**Spotsylvania County, Chancellorsville, VA** ****  
**10:30 AM** ****  
**Union Base Camp** ****  
  
  
Alfred wasn't known to be an easily annoyed person. Usually when an annoyance came up he'd laugh it off; unfortunately, Alfred couldn't bring himself to do so this time. Instead he found himself actively leveling the poor messenger in front of him with a glare. "So," he grit out, “Commander Sickles and his men have been watching the rebels move for over two hours, but didn’t say  _ anything _ before now?!”   
  
The soldier nodded in compliance attempting to calm the frazzled nation down. “Yes America, sir. That was the report I was told to send General Hooker,” the soldier then bit his lip with a look of restrained fear. Alfred felt his hiked shoulders deflate and his the majority of any fury drain from his body. He couldn’t shoot the messenger no matter how angry he was. All that was left was plain annoyance now. Sighing, Alfred massaged his temples with a resigned look, “Alright, thank you for your report. Dismissed.”   
  
As soon as the soldier left the tent Alfred sat himself on the stool opposite his general. Pulling off his kepi, Alfred silently pulled at his hair while Hooker finished writing a note. “America,” Hooker spoke softly making Alfred turn his attention towards the General, “It could very well have been the rebels starting a retreat.”   
  
Alfred frowned whilst giving the General a look, “Not to be rude, but I doubt that. A lot.”   
  
Hooker shrugged, “It is a possibility.”   
  
“I highly doubt my brother would be stupid enough to—“   
  
“That,” Hooker cut him off and Alfred clamped his mouth shut to listen, “was my thought as well. I may not know your brother, but I do believe that the more likely possibility is, yes, they are going to attack the right.”   
  
Alfred could barely suppress an eye roll while wondering why  _ that _ conclusion wasn’t the first one jumped to. “We should not need to instigate a conflict when there is a possibility to avoid unnecessary losses, America,” Hooker said pulling out a new sheet and writing down orders in a quick scrawl.    
  
“We shouldn’t leave ourselves vulnerable because of a possibility...” Alfred muttered under his breath. Hooker seemingly chose to ignore Alfred’s blatant annoyance and folded the orders with haste. “We are not going to leave ourselves vulnerable I have already given orders to attack the enemy at Fredericksburg if able, and alerted Howard to be prepared. I would not dream of losing utterly.” Hooker pushed the orders towards Alfred and folded his hands, “If you are concerned about the rebels movements, take these orders to Sickles, and stay on the right flank. You are allowed to harass if necessary.”   
  
Alfred pocketed the orders and fixed the blue kepi back onto his head, “General you’re sure that we’re not going to any problems.”   
  
Hooker nodded in confidence, “There is always margin for error, but we have prepared ourselves against any attacks. The enemy will not win without a fight.”   
  
Alfred nodded solemnly and gave a single, halfhearted, salute before leaving the tent. How many generals had promised him that before? How many had failed him afterwards? In truth it wasn’t only the generals at this point either. How many officers had simply not followed orders? How much morale was gone after loss, after loss, after loss. Upon his exit a few soldiers looked his way and waved in greeting, Alfred pulled up a smile and waved back jovially. Then he slowly walked away from the tent, keeping the orders within his pocket in a death grip, and a smile on his face. Being their nation he had to keep morale up after all. If he looked angry and unconfident those feelings would permeate throughout all of the Army.   
  
He knew morale would fall if he did. He knew that better than anyone. As a sigh escaped him, Alfred finally let go of the orders and let them rest in his pocket, thus bringing that hand up to wipe his brow. It was hot. Unbearably hot. After the rain that seemed so pervasive in the months before, many would think it would be cooler, but the South seemed to disagree. The South always seemed to disagree. He glared at the unbearableness of it all. This heat shouldn’t still be happening. This war shouldn’t still be happening.    
  
Alfred untied a horse and shook the saddle in hopes he could just ride, and he was in luck it seemed. The saddle was tight, no adjusting, no wasting time. A genuine smile graced his face. Maybe Luck would be on his side today. Alfred gingerly walked his horse over to his tent and tied it to a post at the side. Patting its neck, he slinked inside and groaned at the welcome reprieve from the overbearing sun. He tossed his kepi aside began to gather a pack for the ride down. He wouldn’t need much, just enough to allow him to stay on the flank until late after night fall. Throwing it haphazardly in a saddle bag Alfred grabbed his kepi and fixed it atop his head when a voice came from the flap. “America, sir.”   
  
Alfred exited his tent and met the Lieutenant standing firmly with his hands behind his back. "I was just about to depart. Does General Hooker need me?”   
  
The Lieutenant shook his head and presented Alfred with a letter, “This was given to me and I was reported to give it so you sir.”   
  
Alfred took the envelope with a small thanks and looked the address over. Alfred smiled running his fingers over the shaky scrawl, “Thank you Lieutenant, you are dismissed.”   
  
The soldier nodded and marched off back towards the main part of the camp as Alfred tore open the carefully sealed envelope.   
  
**_Dear Alfred,_ ** ****_  
_ ****_  
_ **_I have been watching over things in Europe as you asked. They have been quiet, but all are watching your conflict. I am guilty of that too. From what I heard England and France may want to support South. If that happens you will have a very hard time, believe you me. Do not lose spectacularly and they will cause no problems. Or at least that is what I think._ ** ****_  
_ ****_  
_ **_If you need any support, contact me Alfred. I will watch with rest of the world and if you need aid, my tsar is willing to help you._ ** ****_  
_ ****_  
_ **_Stay safe Fredka,_ ** ****_  
_ **_Ivan_ ** ****_  
_   
Alfred knew his smile brightened as he carefully folded the letter, placing it back in the envelope, and putting into his saddle bag. This whole situation may have been suffocating, and in his mind completely irritating; irrational; and unnecessary, but it grateful knowing he knew he had someone in his corner. When it seemed like the whole world was waiting for you to slip up, gleefully allowing them put your head on stick, it was a small hope whenever someone was on your side. Just like he had been during the Revolution, Alfred knew Ivan was in his corner.    
  
Hoisting himself up onto the horse Alfred fixed his kepi tight once more and gripped the reins with confidence. His spirits had been lifted in a way he hadn’t experienced for many months now, and as an added bonus the air seemed a little cooler now.


	4. XI Corps

**May 2, 1863**

**Spotsylvania County, ???, VA**

**4:00 PM**

 

The mad pounding in his ears and the cutting wind was all Alfred could hear. The colts breath was tough and labored, all signs he was pushing the horse much harder than he needed to. He’d been riding non stop for nearly three hours trying desperately to make it to the right flank. He’d be damned if the rebels made it there before he did; after all, any failings to act could cost him dearly. Nevertheless, it would do him no good if the horse keeled over before he even reached the flank. Pulling harshly on the reins Alfred brought the horse down to a soft walk. “Woah boy. Slow,” he commanded.

The colt was breathing harshly, letting out short puffs of air, and shaking his head with quick jerks. Alfred rubbed his hand on the coarse hairs covering horse's neck. The colt wasn’t Biggen or Spirze, while a war horse he still couldn’t be pushed for hours on end, Alfred had to remember that. “Sorry boy,” Alfred whispered with sincerity. Slipping off the saddle Alfred flipped the reins over the bridle, “Come on, let’s find you some water. There has to be a stream off the Rappahannock somewhere.”

Alfred led himself and the cost through a narrow wooded path. The thick grass licked at his calves with overgrown wild bushes brushing up against his sleeves. The thick crunch of the grass beneath his boots accentuated how overgrown the lightly treaded path was. The brown colt calmly walked behind him with just the occasional roll of its head. The wind rippled through the trees, sussurating the leaves against one another, and an occasional call of a sparrow accompanied the silent noise. Alfred looked all around trying to peer through the thick canopy. It was silent. A peaceful calm that the nation could barely enjoy these days. He could consider such silence a blessing considering the country's current situation. 

Walking further down the path, pushing away branches and vines all the while, Alfred finally found a small flowing creek. Sighing in relief, he brought the horse over to drink and dropped to his knees. Practically throwing off his kepi, Alfred splashed to cold creek water onto his face. It was almost a divine relief. While the cover of the forest had helped, the blazing heat of the late afternoon southern sun still had bared down upon him. With cold water dripping off his skin every ray of light seemed a bit more bearable now. Beside him the colt lapped up the water gratefully, and Alfred too started to take genial sips. He hadn’t realized how dry his mouth had gotten, and the water felt like rain in the deserts of Texas. Once he was thoroughly chilled, Alfred returned his kepi and stood, grabbing hold of the frayed reigns. Lifting himself up into the saddle, Alfred adjusted his footing and grip before riding off again. He still had a bit to go if he wanted to make it to the right flank before any potential attack. He just hoped everything was going according to plan.

 

**May 2, 1863**

**Spotsylvania County, Wilderness Church, VA**

**5:00 PM**

**Camp of XI Corps**

 

Alfred finally rode into camp just as dusk was setting in. A sickly red glow cast itself over the fields, bathing them in an eerie bloody light. As minutes grew onward the blood was cast aside in favor of the growing darkness. Whether it was an omen of things to come, Alfred didn't want to consider. He slowed the colt to a trot as he reached the main portion of the camp. Looking on from his height, Alfred noticed how seemingly calm the soldiers were. Few carried guns, or even looked slightly alarmed, most were just going about camp like nothing was going on in the woods encompassing them. Panic rose in the nation’s chest. He sent those orders through the telegraph, General Howards should’ve received them by now.

Dismounting the colt with a flourish, Alfred pulled his Springfield rifle over his shoulder. He was going to figure what was going on dammit. “Alfred, is that you?” The nation turned his head and found a perplexed looking Massachusetts pacing towards him. 

His dark brown hair was brushed, but falling into his eyes, his prominent cowlick being the only hair seemingly out of place. How Josias always look so proper even during a war was mystery only shared with Ethan. “I thought you were with the main force,” his voice was calm with only underlying amounts of confusion.

Alfred felt marginally relieved the state found him so quickly, “Josias I need to talk to you.”

Josias’ puzzled look only further deepened at Alfred’s urgent expression. All the while, Alfred’s panic only deepened the more confused the state got. If Josias has no idea what was going on, Lord only knows what the soldiers knew. “Alfred what’s—” Alfred cut him off, “Have you or any of the soldiers noticed anything in the past few hours? Movement in woods, gunfire, anything?” 

“Well a few soldiers have been telling the higher ups about hearing movement the woods, but—wait, Alfred what is going on?” 

Alfred pulled Josias in close in order to keep his voice down, it would no good making a scene in the middle of camp. “A few hours ago, Commander Sickles informed us a rebel force started moving in this direction. We have no clue where they are now, and I sent said information, with orders to General Howard, around five hours ago,” he ground out.

Josias’ scowl did nothing to ease Alfred’s worry, “I was never informed of any orders sent by General Hooker. Are you sure you passed them off to telegraph office?” 

“Sure as the devil hates holy water,” Alfred practically straight-faced. 

A loud sigh escaped Josias as he pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, “That’s bully for us!" Sarcasm dripped in droves off of every word. "I would hope they aren’t coming for our corp, but with how in the air we are it’s almost a guarantee.” 

Josias lowered his hand, and look at Alfred, his green eyes questioning, "What are we goning to do Alfred?"

“We’re going to have talk to some sense into Howards, before those greybacks get here," Alfred peered off into the dark woods, "Though I’m afraid we might almost be out of time.”

 


End file.
